Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(59)

She laughed. “My freshman year, my first boyfriend was quarterback of the varsity football team. A senior. You think he treated me like a kid? No. He taught me and my friends how to sneak out of the house. How to party. Before him, I’d had one beer in my life. By the end of the year, I took beer bongs as an appetizer.”

I couldn’t picture Tiffany at sixteen, which left me picturing Lake. They shared certain expressions that made me wonder if Tiffany had ever been as sweet and pure as her sister—or if Lake was bound to become like Tiffany. Lake was on the right track. USC would open up all sorts of doors for her. Nothing should get in her way, especially not someone like me who had no steady job, a murky past, and little more than what fit in a bedroom. Tiffany, though, she was going through something she probably couldn’t recognize, not being motivated to find work or do anything of substance. She needed a hand out of it, and her dad was too busy with Lake. Even her mom hadn’t seemed to want to help, more interested in getting me to date Tiffany.

There was a pretty good chance I could be good for Tiffany, and an even better one I’d be bad for Lake.

Bucky returned and set both plates down. “It took some bargaining, but I got your wine,” he said to Tiffany. “It’s in the back. Hope you like red.”

“We don’t want any wine,” I said. “She’s underage.”

Tiffany nodded. “I changed my mind.”

With a visible sneer, Bucky muttered something under his breath that sounded like asshole. I had no idea what the fuck his problem was, but I didn’t ask him to repeat himself. I wouldn’t be able to control my reaction if I was right.

“This is so good,” Tiffany said when we were alone again.

The food smelled damn tempting, but our conversation still weighed on my mind. “You don’t think she’ll head down that path, right?”

Tiffany cut her meatballs into halves. “Who?”

“Lake.” I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but I wasn’t around much in the big scheme of things. “The parties and sneaking out and stuff.”

“Oh. No.”

I exhaled. Lake had a good head on her shoulders, and I had to trust that. I went to pick up my fork.

“She should,” Tiffany added, “but she probably won’t.”

I paused. “What do you mean should?”

“It makes me a little sad how she just does what Dad says all the time. Like he’s so perfect? He isn’t, you know.”

I had to agree there. “Still, it means she stays out of trouble.”

“And has no fun. I’m not saying she needs to be like I was. I don’t want her to be. I just don’t want her to look back and wish she’d been more . . . I don’t know. Balanced. Social. So what if she has a little too much to drink one night and embarrasses herself doing karaoke at a party? Or misses curfew because she lost track of time talking to a cute boy? Or ditches one class to go get ice cream at the mall?” She took a sip of water. “Big deal. She’ll be eighteen in a couple years anyway.”

I stared at her. I hadn’t even taken a bite. Was she saying Lake was almost eighteen? The way I’d been looking at it, she still had two long years to go, to change, to become who she was meant to be.

“Why do you bring her up so much?” Tiffany asked.

That was simple. “I worry.”

“But why?” Her tone was casual as she twirled noodles onto her fork. She lifted a shoulder. “You guys have a weird friendship.”

A tremor of panic rose up my chest. Couldn’t I have just kept my fucking mouth shut? No, because that was what Lake did to me. Truth was, I had good reason to be worried. A reason that would shut Tiffany right up. I just didn’t want to share it. I sat back in my seat, staring at my food for a minute as I worked up the nerve.

“You’re not eating,” Tiffany said, blinking big, pretty eyes at me, seemingly concerned. “I told you you’d spoil your appetite if you ate dinner with the kids.”

I glanced at my untouched food, my silverware, the melting candle. Then at Tiffany. She was right. The friendship was weird, and I didn’t want her thinking too hard about that. “My sister died,” I said.

Tiffany stopped chewing. “What?”

“I had a little sister. I can’t . . . talk about it. I don’t want to. But that’s why I get so protective of Lake. I don’t ever want you or your family to go through what mine did.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered, letting her fork clatter onto the plate. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. When you mentioned your sister, I thought . . . I thought—”

“It’s okay.” I needed her to stop talking. “It’s been years, so.”

“What was her name?”

I swallowed. I didn’t talk about Maddy. I would never say her name to a stranger, and that was how most people had felt to me since it’d happened. “Can’t.”

She took my hand. “Was she sick?”

My head began to swim. I nodded just to end the conversation, even if it was with a lie.

“Manning?” Tiffany stood up and came to me.

I tried to stop her. “You really don’t need to—”

She moved the table, actually pushed it back a foot, so she could sit on my lap.